We found the cave.

It wasn’t what we were looking for.

Jack was chasing Spot across the moor when he stumbled and fell.

      “Ouch! I’ve broken my leg!”

Jack was always theatrical, over the top.

Billy reached him first, pulled him up.

      “You alright, bro’?”

      “Yeah, I s’pose, but…”

Spot had doubled back and was licking blood off Jack’s ankle.

      “That’ll fix it,” said Billy. “Doggy slobber. The best medicine.”

Jack look unconvinced.

I pulled up beside them, panting.

      “Wow,” I gasped, pointing. “Look!”

Jack’s foot had punctured a large hole in a soft patch of ground. It had collapsed inwards.

We could see beneath the surface to rocks glistening below.

It seemed a long way down.

      “It must be Hannah’s cave,” said Billy, looking up and to his right.

      “The folktale says it lies in the midday shadow of Pen-y-gent. Well this is twelve

o’clock, and the big mountain is casting its shade right over this patch of ground.”

We had all been reared with tales of Hannah’s cave. The Pendle witch who used her magic

to escape the mass executions had supposedly found and inhabited an underground cavern

somewhere in the Yorkshire Dales and lived there to this day. She was blamed for natural

disasters like swine fever, foot and mouth disease, unseasonal flooding and stillborn lambs.

As long as she lived, it was said, she would find innovative ways to wreak her revenge on the

descendants of those who falsely accused her.

      “Let’s call it a day,” I suggested. “Head home. Those thunderheads look like heavy rain’s

on the way.”

I knew I sounded like a wet blanket, but the combination of witches and potholes was just too

potent for my spirit of adventure.

      “Whoa,” said Billy. “We’ve got to take a look. This could make us famous.”

      “I don’t want to be famous,” I replied. “I’d rather be safe and alive.”

      “What about you, Jack?” asked my big brother. “Shall we explore?”

I knew my little brother was the cautious one. I hoped he would talk Billy out of it.

      “Well,” he said, taking me by surprise, “we’ve got the ropes, spikes, belts and biners.”

I groaned. If they both wanted to do it I’d probably have to go along. I couldn’t really go

home alone and leave them in what could be a dangerous situation.

We had been planning to do some rock climbing and abseiling, hence the gear.

But none of us were experienced spelunkers. This was stupid. And rain on the way!

Billy had already hammered two metal spikes into the ground, a metre and a metre and a half

from the hole. Jack was winding thick rope round both belays, tying show-off  knots.

      “Sis,” said my big brother, “I think Jack should stay on top, with Spot. Here’s your belt.

Make sure it’s tight and secure. You and I will descend into Hannah’s lair.”

He gave me a wink. I loved and admired him. How much did I trust his judgment?

I knew he was an adventurer. So brave. How good was he at risk assessment?

Billy grabbed an end of the long rope, having passed it through the biner on his belt.

With no hesitation he dropped into the aperture.

      “Tally Ho!” he shouted, planting both feet on the side of the rock chimney.

I watched him abseil down and down into the chasm. He disappeared from view.

      “I’m on solid ground,” he yelled, sounding distant. “I’m fine, Jane. Come and join me.”

Reluctantly, I followed suit, bouncing deeper and deeper into the cave. Despite the light

filtering through the entrance hole it was quite dark at the bottom. I was apprehensive.

      “Well done, sis,” encouraged Billy. “Listen.”

Drops of water were dripping from stalactites further inside the cave, plopping and splashing

as they hit the puddles below. It added to the eerie atmosphere.

      “That passage to our left must lead somewhere,” said Billy. “Lights on, then off we go."

We had each packed a powerful flashlight in the pockets of our cargo pants. The light

reflected jaggedly from various wet surfaces as we crab-walked into the passage. We had to

stoop to avoid bumping our heads on the rocky ceiling. The hard ground was uneven. We

both lost our balance several times before I stumbled and fell, grazing both knees.

      “Ow, that hurt.” I was close to tears.

      “We don’t have Spot to heal your wounds,” said Billy. “This’ll have to do.”

He pulled out a greyish hankie, spat on it, then wiped both my knees.

       “Hey! Is that supposed to make it better?”

      “C’mon, sis,” replied my brother. “I know you’re a trooper. There’s real adventure round

the next corner. Let’s not waste time.” Saying which, Billy inched forward. I had to follow.

As we neared the bend, the roof became lower and lower. Now we were both prone on the

unwelcoming surface, squinting through a narrow gap into what seemed to be a large

chamber beyond. For no immediately apparent reason, the chamber seemed much brighter.

      “I bet that’s where Hannah lives,” said Billy excitedly. “We’ve got to crawl through and

take a look!”

      “This is getting really scary, and horrible,” I whispered. “Let’s go back.”

Billy ignored me and started wriggling through the adit. I called him some nasty names under

my breath but could see no alternative to going with him.

Sore and bruised, I joined my brother in the glowing chamber. At least it was a relief to be

able to stand up. I flexed my shoulders and upper arms. We no longer needed our torches.

The chamber in the rock was spectacular. Stalactites hung wherever we looked, reflecting the

bright green water of the icy lake which occupied the centre.

      “Wow!” I gasped. “Why is the water that colour?”

Billy muttered something about bioluminescence, which went over my head.

He took my hand as we both approached the edge of the lake. I still felt very uneasy, but I had

to admit it was beautiful.

Suddenly, everything changed. The peaceful scene was transformed as the water seethed.

A hideous green monster rose from beneath the surface. It looked like a human female, with

 the facial features of a wizened crone. Long, straggly green hair hung down like an

emerald curtain. The creature bared its teeth. Green, decayed, irregularly jagged.

      “Jeepers,” yelled Billy. “It must be Jenny Greenteeth, the water sprite!”

Brought up in the dales, we had all heard the old wives’ tales of the legendary

denizen of remote patches of water. She captured children and dragged them into rivers,

lakes and ponds, drowning them then devouring their flesh.

      “Run!” I shouted, turning away from the lake, my heart thumping in my chest.

We weren’t quick enough to react.

The sprite used its unfeasibly long arms to grab each of us by an ankle. The grip was fierce.

I felt myself being dragged inexorably backwards, towards the green water and certain death.

Billy was roaring, ineffectually, “let us go, you monster!”

I started to pray, “please, God, bless us and save us…”

The young woman in a modest grey gown, with a white coif, stood motionless on a rock

overlooking the lake, just within my eyeline. Her arms were extended. Sparks flew from her

stiff, accusing fingers. They traced a path to each arm of the predatory sprite.

I felt the grip on my ankle relax. I was able to scramble to my feet. Billy was also free,

moving away from the water’s edge. We both turned to watch the unfolding drama.

The mysterious young woman was now directing her fire to the head of the sprite.

Jenny Greenteeth seemed distressed, writhing, sinking back under the glowing surface.

And tranquility returned to the underground chamber.

      I turned to Billy. “What just happened?”

He was pale, obviously shaken. “I think that might be Hannah,” he breathed. “This is crazy.”

Our saviour jumped down from the rock and calmly walked towards us.

      “Be thee hale?” she enquired in archaic English, with a peculiar intonation.

      “We’re safe and sound,” responded my brother, “thanks to your intervention.”

The woman nodded. An awkward silence ensued, broken by Billy.

      “I think…are you…could you be…Hannah?”

Our rescuer reddened. She seemed taken aback. Embarrassed. Uneasy? She sighed deeply.

To my eye, Hannah – if that was, indeed, her identity – decided to trust us with her story.

      “I be thus yclept. I inhabit the spirit world. This cave has been my home since I evaded

the witch finders of Pendle, perhaps four hundred years ago, or more. They wrongfully

hung ten innocents. I, the only true witch, used my powers to escape. But I was always

a white witch, doing only good. I know your kinfolk believe I bring about pestilence and

ill-fortune. That is misconceived. I must skulk within this earthly prison to forestall their

vengeance. I will return you children to the world above, but I make a plea that you share this

encounter with no soul and permit me to preserve my sanctuary.”

Billy and I exchanged glances. In each other’s eyes we could see only a wish to accede to

Hannah’s emotional entreaty.

      “Depend on it,” declared my brother. “We will keep your secret.”

Hannah closed her eyes and lowered her head. She began chanting to herself in a dialect

neither of us could understand.

I can’t say what happened. I don’t know. I have no memory nor awareness of the transition.

But Billy and I were standing facing each other, on the desolate moorland we had traversed

some time – how long? – before.

      ‘Where are we?” I asked.

Billy pointed to the large boulder immediately in front.

      “That’s Grimshaw’s rock,” he answered. “We passed it just a few minutes before Jack had

his accident. I’ll bet he and Spot are awaiting just beyond, where we left them.”

As we rounded the boulder, Spot was the first to register our presence. He came bounding

towards us, tail wagging, barking excitedly. He jumped up on both of us in turn, licking our

faces. It was starting to rain. Everything seemed so normal. Had I been dreaming? Was I

about to wake up?

      “Where have you been? What happened? Did you find another way out?”

Jack seemed as excited to see us as Spot.

Billy caught my eye, winked, then took a deep breath. I was sure he was going to tell Jack a

cock-and-bull story. Goodness knows what it might be, but of one thing I was certain.

Neither of us would ever reveal the truth of our escapade, or compromise Hannah’s refuge.